


even if it makes me blind

by eccentrick



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Childhood Friends, Familiars, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Victuuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9686459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentrick/pseuds/eccentrick
Summary: Yuuri is only nine when he looks into the eyes of the New God. Legends say blindness is imminent, but when the New God is the young and strange Victor... Yuuri finds it isn't true, or is it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really nervous about posting this. I was already writing it when I saw Victuuri week, and I thought "wow, I have a month to finish this, I'm going to make it a long ass one-shot." Haha, yeah right, since I got sick not long after and it lasted for 3 weeks, I'm still not over it. And then I decited to change tenses :').
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone in the Creative Support Group (CSG), especially my bro Jazz, my sweet baby Rikka and wifey Molly (who made me almost have a crisis and actually _think_ about my nonexistent world building.) I don't know what I'd do without y'all, I probably wouldn't even been posting this fic. Hell, it'd probably not even be this finished.

Yuuri's last day of normalcy starts the same as any other, if only more busy.

 

He wakes just after dawn to help his mother gather the firewood required to warm their open baths. His stubby arms can only carry so much, but Yuuri has always enjoyed being needed, even then.  
  
And needed he is. Their artificial springs are packed now that the new god will be born any day. People all around the land come for the Old god's—a grumpy old man all thought would somehow live forever— memorial.  
  
Gods, as his village call them, do not live forever. They live longer than the average human, for sure, but they all succumb to the darkness that is death. Their life, their essence, is then recycled for the New god (or goddess); all the knowledge and wisdom bundled up in the body of a newly created child.  
  
With each new god is a festival of sorts; food, dancing, spirits, and sorted games involving blindfolds. It is a theme to never look a divine being in the eyes, the consequences varying in every story, though grave all the same. But this year the god will appear in the dead of winter, quickly shooting down any plans for a celebration. Still, there is a sort of a migration of people, instead of fleeing the cold bitterness of the season, they flock to the warmth that is sure to be the New god.  
  
The sudden influx of people is welcome for their modest business, but it comes with its challenges. The stock pile of wood they’ve gathered all year long is running on its last dreg.  
  
"Yuuri," his mother sighs fondly as he stumbles for the third time, scrambling to keep all the twigs in his small arms."Be careful."  
  
He just giggles, enjoying the soft glide of his feet across a thin sheet of ice that has coated the snow, only halting when he spots another fallen branch. A few feet in the same direction, there sits a newly severed tree limb, delicately sheathed in snow. Sticking his tongue out in delight, he hustles through the quickly rising snow.  
  
Finding two more in the same fashion, Yuuri turns to alert his mother of the lucky find. Stopping short, he sways, his home no longer in view. His past steps revert, disappearing one by one like nature retracing its steps, the horizon getting farther and farther away.

Yuuri blinks rapidly to dispel the blurriness of his vision.

  
What's happening, his mind screams. His thoughts tread through thick syrup, heart jack hammering, every movement forward dragging more than the last. Soon it becomes too tiring, so Yuuri stops thinking at all.  
  
When he ceases his thoughts, the air parts around him, directing his sight to a tree in the center of it all, its branches still cloaked in green leaves despite the dead season. The pregnant silence of the forest matches well with that tree, the middle round like one’s belly with child.  
  
Squinting in the stillness, the atmosphere surrounding the trunk pulsates, calling to him. Dragging him to it; allowing him in. Yuuri can't say whether the pull scares him, the trance taking hold. The muscles in his arms twitch from the strain, so he allows them to go limp, the thumping of falling wood muffled by the snow.  
  
Yuuri doesn't remember bounding up to the tree, but that must be what he does. For he is now up close, close enough to reach up...and graze the moss that climbed the dark bark, trace the lines and peaks with his bare fingers.  
  
A crack resonates. A wet one, a warm one; similar to how one would imagine breaking out of an egg, the sounds the very beginning of the many firsts in your life.

 

He shields his eyes, light leaking from the growing crack down the middle of the tree. It is then, at the exact moment, that Yuuri realizes what is happening. This is the New god, being birthed from the Earth, bringing life to the deadest season. He gapes, his arms mentally flailing as he cannot move, can only look on.  
  
Realistically, this is when Yuuri knows he should have high tailed it out of there, away from whatever this is and alert the village. But the great trees branches seem to groan and pop, accommodating the newly broken girth. He cannot avert his stare, even as he falls back.  
  
So. Yuuri decides to stay. A decision that will forever change him, and his village.  
  
Thin, pretty fingers with round nails peek out of the crack, arching for the sun. But all they get is Yuuri, who then threads his bare digits through their fingers, jolting at the soft and warm feel. It is strange, for the New god to be born hands first, grasping for everything all at once. He has seen colts delivered, and can't help but draw contrasts between them.  
  
Nothing should be born this beautiful.  
  
Long silver locks drag the ground as the god takes his first breath, neck arched and eyes closed in bliss. Breathing in, deep, smiling. The New god, with pale eyes, pale skin, pale everything like the season he is born in, unsteadily steps out.  
  
They tumble, surprised, and visibly shivering. Still, they look so happy, so alive, that Yuuri doesn’t realize that they spoke.  
  
"Uh, um, I'm not—I'm not sure what you just said."  
  
The New god's forehead creases before they appear to adjust, speaking like the words have a strange taste.  
  
"Hello," They then say, in Yuuri's native tongue, still somehow foreign. Their tone sounds similar to the older boys in the village, on the cusp of sudden change.  
  
"Hi," Yuuri squeaks back. Before abruptly realizing that the god is laying naked in the freshly fallen snow, in the sub zero weather. Yuuri immediately feels horrible, disappointed in himself for not realizing sooner.  
  
He makes sure to avoid eye contact as he strips himself of his lined coat, warm with his body heat. Yuuri leaves the scarf for himself but gives his hat and pocketed gloves to the New god as well.

 

He hardly feels the chill as they walk home, focusing too much on the New god.

 

* * *

  
  
His mother takes the arrival of the New god in stride.  
  
After the birth of the god, and the light had subsided, Yuuri realizes that he now knows where he is; the once hidden footprints now completely visible. He side eyes the being next to him as he leads them through the snow quickly. The lack of shivers from the god is strange but not entirely unexpected of a divine being birthed in the dead of winter.  
  
Yuuri grins as he walks the god to his home, hands still clasped together all the way. He wants to speak, or perhaps inquire their name, but he feels awkward avoiding their eyes. Is he allowed to hold hands with a god? That seems like something that would be forbidden by the Elders.  
  
His mother is frantic when he arrives, but the panic soon evolves into awe when she realizes who her son is leading. She immediately sends Mari to alert the others, all while she exudes maternal affection as she fusses over the New god.  
  
"Oh dear, it seems we only have one room available at the moment, and it is not fit for a god..."  
  
The god gives a genial smile. "No need, I am certain I will be more than fine here." With that, the New god glances at Yuuri.  
  
Not exactly comfortable under scrutiny, Yuuri asks what any nine year old would. "Uh, what's your name?"  
  
"I am...not sure. I have not yet been given one," the New god finally speaks after a few beats of silence.  
  
A sad feeling comes over him: it must be lonely being a god. Even more so for a New god, not yet named.  
  
"You could...you could think of one yourself. So you'll always like it. Mari always complains about hers, though Mama says it's just 'cause she's 'at that age', whatever that means...and I am speaking too much, I'm sorry!"  
  
The god laughs, warmth present in their voice for the first time. "What is your name?"  
  
"Katsuki Yuuri." He informs in his most polite tone.  
  
"Yuuri," the god says, rolling his name on their tongue. They don’t quite seem to realize the significance of using Yuuri's given name, for they just smile at Yuuri as he twiddles his thumbs and attempts not to blush any deeper. "Why don't you name me?"  
  
"U-uh, excu-se me...? I c-could not."  
  
Tilting their head in confusion, the being sighs pathetically, eyes downcast.  
  
Yuuri lifts his head, now being able to avoid eye contact by looking up; he does not like the look on the god's face, the slump in his shoulders. He was just born, so he should only know happiness. Mari had always told him he was weak to puppy eyes, ever since their family dog had found them.  
  
Their dog, Vicchan—  
  
"Victor."  
  
It is then, when Yuuri clearly speaks that name, that the god, Victor, looks up.  
  
And stares right into his eyes.

 

* * *

  
  
Yuuri is in a daze for the rest of the day. He just can't believe it. Victor had looked at him and smiled, had stared right into his eyes, and nothing had happened. No catastrophic event, nor had Yuuri been struck down by lightning where he sat.  
  
It made no sense.  
  
All his life—granted that is only nine years—he had been told story after story of what happened to those who challenged a god. Looked them in the eye. Some stories include spontaneous combustion, while others spoke of immediate loss of all five senses, making that person fundamentally a shell.  
  
And here is Katsuki Yuuri, a normal boy who just named a New god.  
  
How is he supposed to explain this to the villagers?  
  
His breathing becomes erratic. What will he do? Will it all be laughed off? Does he want it to?  
  
The most frustrating part of his panic is the uncalled nature of it. Victor, while obviously divine, appears as harmless as a puppy. He smiles and laughs and graciously accepts food Yuuri's mother readily provides. Afterwards, he falls asleep by the fire like it is routine.  
  
His mind runs laps, dragging his tired lungs behind it, until Yuuri himself is worn out. He falls asleep at the table, his right hand outstretched and curled towards the silver-haired being.

 

* * *

  
  
Yuuri wakes up with a cat sitting on his chest.  
  
In his dream, his chest feels heavy, his breath shallow and labored; it eventually awakens him, fear enveloping his waning consciousness.  
  
If the cat recognizes his distress it ignores him, only kneading his stomach in warning, claws poking through his thin sleep shirt.  
  
At least it is the size of a housecat. It has the perfect markings of what appears to be a big cat, thick bands of orange, black and white striped in a pattern. Its paws are enormous for such a small animal, tail long and thick, like nothing Yuuri has ever seen.  
  
It huffs as Yuuri's breathing quickens, standing only to turn and glare at him with intelligent eyes. Yuuri opens his mouth to speak, but before anything has the chance to come out, a huge paw is on his neck, though claws still retracted. Mostly. He can feel the pinpricks of its nails. Any gasp of surprise stops in his throat.  
  
The next thing the boy observes is Victor, laying next to him, facing him with his arm gracing Yuuri's.  
  
Yuuri wants to move, maybe give the god his bed, but stays as still as possible to not disturb the miniature-cat-something-or-other.  
  
The only thing Yuuri can do is attempt to fall back asleep, but by the feeling behind his eyelids he knows it will be impossible. He has always been a light sleeper, even as a baby. The only thing he can do is wait it out and try not to call out for his parents as he so wants to do. If it was just Victor, Yuuri could handle it, but with the strange appearance of the cat, he realizes that this is just how his life works now.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Yuuri is awakened, there is no cat sitting on his chest, only Victor's exuberance as he shakes the nine year old to consciousness.  
  
Mama always says I’m not a morning person, he muses when Victor draws back in what appears to be mock horror after seeing his bed head and close-eyed scowl.  
  
"Let us observe your quaint village, Yuuri~" Victor enthuses.  
  
"Wha' time is it?" Yuuri mumbles, rubbing his tired eyes.  
  
Victor tilts his head in confusion. "Why would you ask?"  
  
Yuuri groans internally, coming to the realization that Victor isn't going to be a normal friend since he apparently doesn't know that time exists.

 

* * *

  
  
Yuuri tries to pass by his mother, but it must be Victor's shiny hair and coatless body that gives them away.  
  
"Yuuri, take Vicchan to the onsen first."  
  
"But—"  
  
"No buts, besides, I'm sure he'll enjoy it."  
  
So now this is where Yuuri has a dilemma.  
  
"U-um, are you sure you wanna soak with m-me?" Yuuri asks, or more like awkwardly stutters out, as they stand between the joint doors that leads to the two different artificial springs. Women, and men.  
  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
  
Yuuri isn't sure how to ask. This spastic feeling is normal, though, so he tries to push through, nerves buzzing under his skin.  
  
"S-so," he begins, "Are you a god, or a g-goddess?"  
  
It has been on his mind. Victor has the beautiful long locks, graceful movements he associates with the woman in his village; yet he also has the deepening voice and...well... _that_.  
  
His sister is a girl, but her hair is cut short and pushed out of her face absentmindedly, and even in her teens, she snuck around and smoked their father's cigars. Her voice is huskier than the higher trills of local maids. So it seems to his little mind that that either is possible for Victor.  
  
"Does it matter?" is all Victor says, and Yuuri thinks, no, not really.

 

Victor has to be dragged from the onsen, Yuuri giggling at the prune-y folds of Victor's fingers.

 

* * *

  
  
It isn't until the next day that Yuuri gets to show Victor around the village.  
  
Yuuri isn't the happiest camper. He is bundled up to the point of wobbling as he walks, but still his nose becomes red, and he has to sniffle every few minutes. Victor walks around in Mari's uniform (the only thing that fits him), not even wearing a jacket. With each inhale, he appears to savor the biting breeze, his frost colored breath parting from heart shaped lips.  
  
He is in his element.  
  
Victor stays by his side despite his slow pace, gasping and ahh-ing at everything. There isn't much to see in Yuuri's opinion. He has been seeing these sights his whole life, the same corners and booths and people, until they blur together in his memories. But with Victor he begins taking it in once again, noticing that the small bakery is painted a new color, stark yellow against the white surroundings. The pub/inn is empty, the pilgrims who once made the business busy now almost abandoned due to the New god’s late birth.

 

Maybe it is the newly fallen snow, or perhaps Yuuri's new keenness to his surroundings, that he spots the stripes of black and orange.

He gives chase without a thought, Victor easily catching up to Yuuri's lagging pace.  
  
"Yuuri?" Victor calls next to him, obviously confused, but still, he follows.  
  
They chase the cat's tail, Yuuri huffing, Victor following with pure faith. He obviously doesn't know what is going on, and honestly, that would have been worrying to Yuuri at any other moment.  
  
Finally, they cut off the cat in a dead end, the end of the mountain leering down at them. Or perhaps, Yuuri observes, the cat has lured them, due to the flick of its tail back and forth, the tip twitching to and fro in irritation. It is just like a tall tale.  
  
"Oh." Victor says, finger to his lips. "I know who this is."  
  
It is Yuuri's turn to be confused. "Who?"  
  
"He's talking about me, idiot," a careless voice calls. To Yuuri's ears, it sounds unhappy and hurried; not that the owner of the voice is in a rush, but that it never gets any rest or refuge. Brittle. Like an avalanche.

He glances everywhere. At the sky, side to side, behind, and finally at his feet. He can't find the source of the voice. Looking to Victor, the elder of the two, for an explanation; all he gets is a dopey grinning Victor, gazing at the enraged cat. This means...  
  
It doesn't even occur to nine year old Yuuri that it should be strange that he is looking directly at a talking feline. And maybe it would be, if not for the fact he is the one who found Victor, a god.  
  
"The cat talked!" he exclaims, trembling with excitement. His little heart almost can't take it.  
  
The cat arches its back, hair raised.  
  
"I'm not a cat, you tiny human! I'm a tiger!"  
  
"Miniature tiger," corrects Victor.  
  
"Shut up, New god! I don't wanna hear it from you. All this trouble and scandal for you? The only thing you seem to do is cuddle with that small baby human. You haven't even visited your own temple!"  
  
"Victor."  
  
_“Haah?"_  
  
The New god tenses, smile froze in place. "I am called Victor. Not New god or you." And just like a snow drift, his mood changes direction and his smile is newly fit. "And Yuuri isn't a small baby human, he's a _cute_ small baby human~"  
  
“Uhck," the cat hacks out, whiskers twitching and nose visibly curled up over sharp teeth in disgust, "You're not anything like Yakov. You're gonna be nothin' but a pain."  
  
"Good. I'm my own god." Victor sighs before smiling again. "And from what I've heard, Yakov had a dreadful temper. Like you."  
  
Back then, the meaning behind that sentence was bizarre to Yuuri. I'm my own god. Of course he was. Victor was the god, the boy who hogged all the blankets and whined about splinters when he insisted on helping Yuuri and his mother collect firewood. He couldn't imagine the silver-haired god being anything or anyone else. He was unsure why Victor had said it so hollowly, or why he looked so stricken.  
  
It would come back to haunt him.

 

* * *

  
  
The cat continues to make appearances throughout the week, going so far as to claim a spot by the table like he owns it, where the floor is cushioned for the family to sit on.  
  
It is revealed by Victor's blabbering mouth that the cat—his familiar, Victor calls him— answers to many names. Though, the silver haired boy remembers that in the last life his preferred name had been Yuri, with one less U than _his_ Yuuri. (Yuuri blushes when it dawns on him that Victor is referring to him.)  
  
It proves to be confusing. Yuuri will hear his mother call, only to find her bending down to hand scraps to the tiger.  
  
Yuri doesn't seem to like him much. Whenever Yuuri walks in his own home, even into his own room no less, Yuri will exit soon after, tail wagging as though the cat is a furious guard dog. Whenever he speaks, Yuri sighs heavily, whiskers twitching in obvious irritation. Yuuri is beginning to think that's all the familiar ever feels.  
  
It goes on like this for almost a week. It grates on his nerves, because really, why does he have to follow him everywhere if the cat dislikes him so much? He suspects that it is due to Victor, who trails behind him in everything he does, and Yuri must feel some sort of duty to be there with the New god. Even though, obviously, Yuri doesn't like Victor much either.  
  
There is no pleasing Yuri.  
  
It isn't until Yuuri wakes up while the moon is still high that the tides change.  
  
The only light is the whiteness from the moon, casting long shadows through Yuuri's small window. It reflects off of long silver locks, like it is seeking them, Victor's breathing even and deep. It is dead silent, leaving Yuuri unsure of what awakens him.  
  
Feeling someone watching him, he frantically searches around the dim room, before landing on glowing eyes.  
  
Gasping, it takes a full minute before Yuuri recognizes the fur coat and whipping tail. Yuri sits atop a chair, body much wider than the thin rail he rests on. His eyes bore into him, like he is searching something, anything to light the fire of anger that lowly kindles behind his eyes at all times.  
  
Yuuri refuses to look away, recognizing a challenge when he sees one. He has had plenty of stare offs with Mari, before the teen decided her little brother wasn’t worth her time any longer.  
  
The familiar glares, and glares and glares before he finally looks away, nose twitching with surprise and something less like hate. Yuri's hindlegs bunch, back end in the air before he bounces, the boy flinching away at the last second.  
  
But the cat doesn't attack him, nor does he verbally lash out, only curls up next to him silently, huffing loudly every time Yuuri makes the slightest of motions.  
  
It feels like the start of something nice.

 

* * *

  
  
It turns out that Mari has a solution to the constant confusion.  
  
"Yurio," she says suddenly at breakfast. Yuuri and his mother glance at her with similar befuddled expression.  
  
Breaking the sudden silence, she speaks again, "We'll call the cat Yurio."  
  
"I'm not a cat, I'm a _tiger_ and a _familiar._ And why do I have to be the one to get a nickname?"  
  
No one listens to Yurio's protest, continuing with their meal.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? Me posting something in a timely manner?? Shocking, I know, I'm surprised myself.
> 
> I'd like to thank my bro, Jazz for beta-ing once again, even being as tired and busy as she is. Wouldn't have gotten this out without you.
> 
> Thanks too everyone in the CSG (Creative Support Group) for providing insight and giving me encouraging words. Wouldn't be near as confident as I am without y'all.

Winter ends, but spring has yet to arrive. 

They are stuck in some sort of limbo, seasons shifting back and forth at a moment’s notice, indecisive. His mother always says it's a bad omen but in a casual sort of way, the way  someone knows by the ache in their joints and sighs  that  _ rain is coming _ known by the ache in their joints. But Yuuri can feel it, in the uneasy rustle of leaves on the Birth Tree, the core still hollow where Victor had been born.

  
The bad omen is proven true when the Elders arrive, disgruntled and wrinkly and...and  _ disgruntled _ (Yuuri has just been taught this word and can't think of anything else that will suffice.)    
  
They look fragile, bending over their canes and staffs, skin paper thin, blue veins coming apart and together in vines. It's scary to Yuuri, really, how one good gust of wind could be enough to take them out.    
  
Yuuri quits caring when he sees how they look at Victor. Like he's a nuisance that needs to be swept under a rug; bare, undirected malice in their eyes. Those beady eyes can harm anyone, for they did not seem to mind the way Yuuri flinches as they approach.    
  
Or, perhaps, they are just cranky. One of the two.    
  
"Ah, fuck," Yurio mutters, untucking one front paw from under the other regally. "These old geezers again."    
  
"Language," Victor chides, not even acknowledging the elders. 

Passive aggressive, his mother calls Victor, like a blunt knife well placed between the ribcage; only lethal with intent.

Like that matters at all,  _ Victor _ ," Yurio spits out the name like spoiled milk, but there is no longer any real annoyance behind it. "You're a god, and I'm your familiar. I can say and do whatever the hell I want."   
  
"That's not a very good attitude, Yurio. That's called 'abuse of power.' Mari always complains about it when my dad makes her take out the garbage." When Yuuri reaches out, he catches Yurio off guard, managing to scoop the cat up and deposit him on the boy's lap with minor scratches.    
  
Victor laughs at Yurio's protests, saying, "The only time you take advantage of being a familiar is to get table scraps. What's next? Warm milk? So scary."    
  
"Fuck you," is all the tiger says, settling down into Yuuri's arms, feigning reluctance. It was pretty well established that Yurio cuddled with every warm body available, especially Yuuri.    
  
The chilly breeze causes branches to groan, nobody speaking for a few beats.   
  
"Incompetent, both of you," the only elder standing without support says. He appears to be the leader of the pack, craggy old joints twisted from age and arthritis. It is strange to see such obviously willful men stare holes in the ground, but no one, not even the most powerful people in the village, dare to look Victor in the eyes.    
  
_ Except me _ , Yuuri thinks, and then decides not dwell on the significance of the thought.

"Now, no need to be cranky."

Yuuri holds his breath in shock until he, once again, realizes that Victor held more power in a single strand of silver hair than what those old farts had accumulated in their life times–which werelong ones. He feels a taught guilt at his mental disrespect to the elders.

"We've come to talk to the New god," the youngest glances at Yuuri, "alone."    
  
Yuuri can tell Victor is about to correct the elder, but Yuuri shakes his head when the boy god eyes him.    
  
With a tight smile, Victor replies, "You may direct me. Yuuri, don't wait up."   
  
It isn't until they're out of sight that Yurio's tail stops twitching, and his ears rise from their flat stance.    
  
"Goddamn those old farts, I swear. They're pretty patient for a group of people who could croak at  _ any given moment _ . Did you see the one, I swear he was so crusty he'd flake off into nothing. Gone into the breeze. If only we were so lucky."    
  
Yuuri giggles, scratching the grumpy cat behind the ear, until the familiar finally admits defeat and purrs.    
  
"If you're," he brings his voice down into a conspiring tone, "going to  _ damn _ a god, that means Victor, right?"    
  
Yurio's only reaction is a slight twitch of the ear, but that's all it takes to tell Yuuri. He is just so easy to read. Yuuri shouldn't tease him so much, but it is just so...fun. It's almost hard to imagine that this is an really old familiar and not a moody teenager.    
  


* * *

  
Victor isn't there for dinner, no matter how long the family waits, or for their nightly routine of bathing and combing each other's hair. Yuuri has forgotten how hard it is to get the knots out of his hair where his arms can't easily reach. Huffing, he gives up and goes to bed.    
  
He's shaken awake at an undetermined time in the night, the blankets next to him still cold and untouched. It takes only a second to realize what wakes him up, squinting his eyes in the dark to see the figure knelt down.    
  
"Yuuri," Victor whispers.    
  
Used to being awakened during ungodly hours of the night, Yuuri complies, yawning as he stretches and rubs at his eyes. "Yes?"    
  
His eyes becomes accustomed to the dim light, the black more apparent than not, but he still sees Victor. It is close to a full moon once again, and with his opened window, the silver light reflects around the room. Victor sometimes asks the Katsuki family, usually Yuuri, and surprisingly sometimes Mari what the emotions in his chest are. The pressures of being a god, seen as an all knowing being doesn't allow him to be able to process emotions like a normal person, someone who has skipped right into preteen life, Yuuri's mother says. His dad just mutters that Victor is becoming a teenager.    
  
Victor speaks again, "Come outside with me."    
  
"Where?"    
  
Yuuri isn't really sure if he should go out anywhere while it's still dark outside, even if he's with Victor. But he looks at Victor's eyes again and decides he'd go anywhere if it made the boy god feel better.    
  
"Anywhere," is all he divulges, eyes focused on the ground.    
  
"Anywhere," Yuuri agrees, standing up without wobbling too much.   
  
Victor is as adamant about Yuuri's layers as his mother, only letting him forgo his scarf and hat. Yuuri grumbles until he realizes they should try to be quiet since they're  _ sneaking out.  _ It's strangely something Mari would do, which doesn't make the boy entirely proud.    
Okay, maybe a little.    
  
Victor leads this time, walking almost in a sort of trance. The sky is clear, the stars bright and close enough to reach out and grasp. Yuuri absolutely does not try, the splatter of stars gliding between his fingertips like snowflakes.    
  
He runs into Victor's back, nose right between his shoulder blades. Yuuri squeaks and jolts back. The other boy has suddenly stopped, frame square and direct, looking ethereal in the moon's shine.This is something that Yuuri pictures remembering when he's old and gray and forever pruny, the way Victor becomes more god than boy. Maybe that was a good thing, he'd contemplate, or perhaps he'd feel sadness looking back.    
  
"Let's stop here."    
  
Yuuri nods despite knowing Victor wouldn't be able to see the acknowledgement. He feels too content at the moment to speak, body edging just behind the line of coldness, not quite enough to jar shivers out of him.    
  
Before them sits a second sky. The stars are reflected, reversed and rippled, marred by bits of ice roaming the surface, dragging and smearing the portrait created by nature. Yuuri finds he doesn't mind. 

Abstract as beautiful as surreal. 

Victor crouches at the edge of the pond to brush, bare fingertips along the top. Little sheets of ice appear under them, like stepping stones for his fingers. It amazes Yuuri. He has not once, ever, seen magic or power like this from Victor. Frozen breath in the dawn of spring is different, more of a parlor trick now in comparison.    
  
Ice extends from where his fingers touch the water. "The elders want me to move to the shrine.  _ My _ shrine. But it doesn't feel like mine at all. It's cold and impersonal, as if the Old god didn't have a personality at all. Or maybe he did, and they just...just got  _ rid _ of it as soon as he died. That's not right."   
  
Yuuri's stomach sinks. "But that means it can become yours, right?"    
  
"Yes… Well, no. I don't think so. I like staying with your family Yuuri, with  _ you _ ." Victor reaches out when he refers to Yuuri. "It'll all go away. I won't be Victor anymore, I'll be the New god."    
  
He tries to smile, swallowing the sadness lurking in his throat, and reassures Victor. "You'll always be Victor to me."    
  
Victor's shoulders slump, his entire body weight now against the ice he created, now slowly but surely encasing the entire pond.    
  
"As long as Yuuri sees me, I guess I could make the best of it..."    
  
The boy hedges closerto the other, not sure if he should try to comfort Victor or not. He tries to summon what Yurio would say in this situation. Then, he realizes that it is something he could not possibly say aloud. So, he decides on his own.   
  
"You can stay, or you can go.  _ You're _ the one that's a god, so do what you think is good. It's not like they can boss  _ you _ around." He smiles secretly, "and you're the  _ god _ damn god, so..."   
  
Victor turns so quickly he has to have whiplash, "Did  _ my _ Yuuri just make a foul pun? My sweet, little Yuuri? How can this be?!"    
  
Victor valiantly fights the shock, but loses as he collapses onto the pond, ice catching him completely without even a groan of protest.    
  
Yuuri giggles, "Let's skate."   
  


* * *

  
The next day comes quickly, or perhaps it does for Yuuri as the world tilts and sways. His mother was already annoyed when she woke to Yuuri and Victor coming in just before daylight with Yuuri shivering by the door, but that quickly turns to concern when Yuuri almost falls into his plate at breakfast.    
  
He's not quite sure what happens after that, besides a flurry of movement and gentle touches, but he wakes back in his room, damp cloth on his clammy forehead.    
  
"Am I sick again?" He croaks, voice rough and burning.    
  
It is Mari at his bedside, managing to look bored at the situation. "Yes, idiot, you are."   
  
"Oh."   
  
"Yeah,  _ 'oh' _ . Mom is upset, which makes dad upset, and now Victor can't even look at you without crying. So that leaves me on washcloth duty."    
  
"I'm sorry."    
  
She lets out a slow breath. "Don't be sorry. Not your fault. Most kids your age can take early spring weather, but ever since..." Ever since he almost died from fever. His family doesn't like to mention it, especially when it is supposed to be behind them. "We're just lucky you didn't get sick all winter."    
  
Yuuri smiles, cheeks flushed from fever. This is the most Mari has spoken to him in a while. It is strange, seeing her sudden shift in behavior as she grew older. Now she's different, yes, but she still cares about her family. If she didn't, she'd be smoking at this moment.    
  
"Is Victor okay?"    
  
Mari snorts. "Physically, yes. Emotionally? He's a mess. The look on his face when you fell into your rice."    
  
She must see the look on his face, his shift in weight, because she becomes serious. "Lay back down. He's  _ fine _ . He's being a baby, really. You'd think he was the human."    
  
Yuuri relaxes, shivering under the heavy blankets. He feels guilty. Victor had only ever seen him healthy and active, so Yuuri suddenly getting sick is probably almost traumatic. Knowing Victor, he might even blame himself since he'd taken Yuuri outside.    
  
His arm brushes something soft, and he hears a low hiss, "Quit moving and go back to sleep, how stupid are you."   
  
"Oh. And Yurio is worried."   
  
"No, I am not! I came in here so I didn't have to hear Victor's whining."

That manages to get a small smile from Yuuri who just cuddles back up to the bundle of warmth. His shivers subside a bit, and he falls back into the warm arms of sleep.    
  
The next time he wakes up. it's dark. Yuuri feels a bit guilty for sleeping so much, to have completely missed dinner; he doesn't notice Victor until there's a bit of clanking to his right. He even startles. Victor smiles, or perhaps grimaces, as he sits down a tray.    
  
"Ah, Yuuri, sorry for waking you."   
  
"It's all right," he says, noticing the ache behind his eyes has lessened. His fever broke while he slept.   
  
Victor looks exhausted. His hair is untied, tendrils loosely curled and framing his face, bangs sticking to his forehead like he's the one sweating out sickness. His eyes aren't as bright as usual, but Yuuri can guess why.   
  
"You don't have to be sorry."    
  
Victor grins. "I know, I just feel guilty waking you even though you needed to. You haven't eaten all day."   
  
In this moment, they both know what the other means, apologies and words of forgiveness not completely needed. The New god is still guilty, by the way his hands jitter as he takes what looks like vegetable broth from the wooden tray. Victor knows Yuuri will never hold something like this against him, while Yuuri knows Victor can't help his feelings of responsibility.    
  
So they go back to normal. Yuuri turns his nose up at the broth, and discovers that Yurio is still asleep next to him when he accidentally presses on the cat's tail. The boy somehow avoids being bitten, or smothered by Victor's concern.    
  
It ends up being a good day.    
  


* * *

  
Despite breaking once, the fever lingers on. Not as high as the first one if that is any consolation. By the end of the first week, it almost becomes normal. It's like a weak parasite, sinking its metaphoric claws into Yuuri's muscles in a last ditch effort, making them liquid and liable to collapse.    
  
Well, it becomes normal for Yuuri.    
  
" _ Yuuri _ , you need to rest."    
  
He huffs at the nagging tone in Victor's voice. "I have been resting. All day. Every day. It'll go away eventually."    
  
"How can you be so at ease right now?"    
  
Yuuri smothers a grin. "I guess you could say I'm  _ ill at ease." _   
  
Somewhere he thinks he hears Yurio groan.    
  
Victor chortles, not even attempting to stifle his laugh. The sound reminds Yuuri of music, organic and still somehow so beautiful. It ends with an inelegant snort before the New god becomes somber. "Does it happen so often you become accustomed to it?"    
  
Yuuri hums, sitting up fully to be level with Victor. "I was always more prone to sickness than Mari-neesan, but it never got dangerous until..."   
  
"Until?"    
  
"I fell into the pond."    
  
Gulping, Victor looks up and, finally, right into Yuuri's eyes, " _ The _ pond, the same one we visited?!"   
  
"There's only one pond in this village, Victor." Yuuri laughs softly but there is no mirth behind it. 

Some memories are harder to remember than others, by the fact that they show you glimpses of your humanity and everything that comes with it, including brushes with mortality.   
  
"It was winter… I was six, and we'd just gotten our dog, Vicchan. He ran onto the ice, and I ran to get him, then I fell through. I was lucky that Mari-neesan was there or I probably would've froze to death before I even drowned." He takes a breath, lets it out thinly through his teeth. "My body got weak and I almost died. Vicchan...died a year later, though not because of that."    
  
There's silence between them, only the wind whispering nonsense through their hair, but it isn't stifling, nor uncomfortable. It is a good consolation to not hear utterances of apologies come from Victor of all people.    
  
"Vicchan as in Victor?"    
  
Yuuri laughs awkwardly, cheeks warm, rubbing the back of his neck as he revealed, "Yeah, I named you after my...dog."   
  
This time, for sure, Yuuri can hear Yurio's yowling laughter reverberate through the home, somewhat mocking for a cat familiar called Yurio.    
  


* * *

  
The next day, despite his mother's– and Victor's, since he could be just as fussy as the woman who birthed him _ – _ wishes, he roams his home.    
  
He finds Yurio down the hall in a basket of clean clothes.   
  
"So this is where you've been hiding," Yuuri says, which only gets an ear flicker from the cat.   
  
"I have not been hiding," comes a muffled response, the familiar's head buried in what looks like one of Yuuri's clean tunics.   
  
"Then why did Mari-neesan tell me no one has seen you since yesterday?"    
  
Yurio doesn't answer right away, yawning so wide his small teeth glint in the early morning light. The cat must have been sunbathing.    
  
"I have not been hiding, I have been  _ waiting _ . Took you long enough to get better." The cat snorts before licking his front paw in quick, short strokes. He stretches, body elongating before scrunching back into its usual petite form.   
  
"Then you didn't have to wait for me."    
  
"Yeah, right. You're the only one in this family that let's me get some peace and quiet. And maybe is the least annoying."   
  
Yuuri's heart lifts, floating and drifting before coming back down. Yurio might act like a cold hearted being, but really all he is, is a grumpy housecat that did not know the next thing about how to show affection. But, once he gets close to someone, he shows his feelings in unconventional ways. Not always healthy, but who, inhuman beings included, can be healthy in every way, all the time?   
  
"Well, we better hurry before Victor or my mom wakes up."    
  
He's not sure where they're going, but Yurio follows him anyway.   
  


* * *

  
Spring gives way to summer, summer folds into fall, autumn fades into winter, and suddenly Yuuri is ten.    
  
His tenth year isn't much different from his ninth: he plays, he makes himself useful, he gets sick a few times. Victor and Yuuri are attached at the hip, despite the many good natured scoldings from his mother, and the not-so-good-natured elders. Mari decides to start acknowledging him again, staying to plays cards and shogi with him when he's too sick to go outside. Yurio cuddles with him without embarrassment and denial. All in all, he's happy.    
  
His eleventh year brings change: suddenly he's a bit taller, chubbier, awkward. Victor doesn't seem to notice, or doesn't care, for he still uses Yuuri's lap as as pillow. Still is his normal teasing self, only now they're even closer, always touching and glancing and laughing with each other, Yuuri weaving flowers as he braids Victor's silky hair. Yuuri only gets badly sick once, but he has more energy, more childhood. It's nice.   
  
When he turns twelve, that's when everything turns on its head. All that was once  familiar now upside down. His voice cracks one morning, which is followed by Mari spitting out her cigar in shock before laughing. Then, it happens again and again. Yuuri wants to die of embarrassment. He also starts noticing how...how  _ beautiful  _ Victor is, starts feeling unsure in his skin while the New god is around. It has never happened before, as Victor is the one who makes him most comfortable, and that in itself is disconcerting.   
  
Victor also starts spending more time at the shrine.  _ His _ shrine, though Victor never gives any indication of seeing it that way.    
  
Yuuri even goes with him once. He's served tea, given smiles, but those come off fake and for show, their teeth sharp under closed lipped smiles. So Yuuri never goes again.    
  
_ No wonder Victor dreads going _ , he thinks with sympathy. Still, he's unconcerned.    
  
Until Victor comes home, hair hacked off to his ears.    
  
"Victor," he breathes in shock. In horror.    
  
"Yuuri," Victor grins back, wobbly at best.    
  
"Wha-what happened?!"   
  
"I'm leaving tomorrow, Yuuri." Victor says it with such finality that it churns Yuuri's stomach.    
  
He speaks again, "I'm not sure how long it will be. I haven't been making progress in 'godly manners', according to the elders. So, I will be travelling indefinitely."   
  
"Are you sure you can't just say no? Remember,  _ you're the god." _   
  
"No, no. I think this might be the right thing. I hope. I guess I'll have to learn to live without my  _ Yuuri _ for a while. How will I go on?"    
  
The rueful smile Victor offers feels like a wave has overtaken him. Yuuri can't breathe, the air knocked out of him like he's been suddenly submerged in frozen water, bits of ice sluicing against his flesh, sending involuntary shivers across clammy skin. He hasn't felt this helpless since he was six, the known world disappearing in a kaleidoscope of whites.    
  
"I guess so."   
  
Yuuri isn't sure how he'll do the same.    
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, you ask, make smol Yuuri tell puns? It just happened. 
> 
> Cat Yurio's behavior largely based on my dog lol. He acts more like a cat every day. 
> 
> Worried about the time skip, and I know there's a lot of inaccuracies, so please forgive any mistakes. Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed this, truly.
> 
> I'd really appreciate comments and kudos, they give me life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Feel free to comment or give kudos, it waters my crops and cures my depression. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://eccentrick-stardust.tumblr.com/) and my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/eccentrick22).


End file.
